Wonderful
by Pantherlily
Summary: Post Reichenbach. Sherlock reflects on his childhood. Songfic. Based on the song 'Wonderful' by Everclear. One shot. Implied Johnlock. Rated 'T' just incase.


Author's Note:

I don't know. Just a drabble I came up with, while I was sitting and listening to this song. One shot. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Sherlock Holmes was not a sentimental man, or at least he didn't consider himself to be. He hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to keep his faked death a secret from John. It was better this way. That was what he told himself anyway. He had to keep his best friend out of the cross hairs. He needed to track down the last of Moriarty's international criminal web.

The consulting detective was currently in some hot jungle in Africa. He avoided human contact as much as possible everywhere he went. Besides playing the violin, music wasn't something that had appealed to him. His 'death' had changed him in some ways he supposed. His only consolation was music now. His only friend. The only thing that could keep him occupied, so he wouldn't think about John.

The MP3 player had been fully charged before Sherlock had come out into the sweltering jungle. He put in the earphones and clicked ahead to a song he'd recently come across. A song that reminded of his childhood. A song that reminded him why feeling anything was stupid to begin with. He hit play.

Hey, ain't life wonderful?  
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful  
Isn't it wonderful?  
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful  
Life is so wonderful  
Isn't everything wonderful?  
Isn't it wonderful now?

I close my eyes when I get too sad  
I think thoughts that I know are bad  
Close my eyes and I count to ten  
Hope it's over when I open them  
I want the things that I had before  
Like a star wars poster on my bedroom door  
I wish I could count to ten  
Make everything be wonderful again

Hope my mom and I hope my dad  
Will figure out why they get so mad  
Hear them scream, I hear them fight  
They say bad words that make me wanna cry  
Close my eyes when I go to bed  
And I dream of angels who make me smile  
I feel better when I hear them say  
Everything will be wonderful someday

Promises mean everything when you're little  
And the world's so big  
I just don't understand how  
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes  
Tell me everything is wonderful now  
Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now

Sherlock's parents had divorced when he was young. His mother couldn't handle being married to a military man anymore. One day when Dad had been home a bad fight broke out. He had locked himself inside his room and pretended not to hear. The younger Holmes brother had leaned against the door, hands over his ears, screaming and crying silently in a desperate attempt to block out the words exchanged.

I go to school and I run and play  
I tell the kids that it's all okay  
I laugh aloud so my friends won't know  
When the bell rings I just don't wanna go home  
Go to my room and I close my eyes  
I make believe that I have a new life  
I don't believe you when you say  
Everything will be wonderful someday

Promises mean everything when you're little  
And the world is so big  
I just don't understand how  
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes  
When you tell me everything is wonderful now

No  
No, I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now  
No  
No, I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now

I don't wanna hear you say  
That I will understand someday  
No, no, no, no  
I don't wanna hear you say  
You both have grown in a different way  
No, no, no, no

Coping had been hard for Sherlock, but he would go to school. It was the only thing he had. Learning. Understanding. A lot of it was boring, for a young genius such as himself. He usually sat and read advanced books on chemistry and physics in class, and still pass them without effort. Even as a child, he didn't really have friends. His oversized books were his friends. Other kids teasing usually didn't even register. Mycroft had started many a fight on the behalf of his younger sibling. His way of dealing with things, Sherlock supposed.

I don't wanna meet your friends  
And I don't wanna start over again  
I just want my life to be the same  
Just like it used to be  
Some days I hate everything  
I hate everything  
Everyone and everything  
Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now

No, please don't tell me everything is wonderful now  
Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now  
I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now  
No, please don't tell me everything is wonderful now

Everything is wonderful now  
Everything is wonderful now  
Everything is wonderful now

After the emotional torment and turmoil of his parents splitting up, Sherlock had decided emotions were an unnecessary device. Pain and suffering was just a distraction from what really mattered: knowledge. So, he just stopped caring. It was easier that way. Nothing could hurt him. Alone protected him.

The consulting detective found himself wishing he could go back to not caring. John had changed everything. He cared now and he didn't know how to make it stop. Someday, everything would be wonderful. Someday he would return to John. If only life could be wonderful. For now, he was hunkered down behind some bush and watched a military installation camp. Someday, everything would be wonderful. It was his motivation. His mantra. It was what kept him going. 'Ain't life wonderful?' Someday it would be.


End file.
